


Of earth, sea and sky

by Bananas45



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 09:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13544268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bananas45/pseuds/Bananas45
Summary: Three pairs of boys and very little hope.





	1. The Mole

1\. The mole 

His teeth are chattering so hard he wonders if he's hypothermic. He huffs out a laugh at the thought of dying from the cold of all things. Out here, alone. They'd probably leave his body.  
"What are you laughing at?" The boy he saved, Pulled out the water by the pier while he hide under it, squints at him. He gets the feeling the the boy thinks he's a coward. He's not,he just wanted out as fast as possible.   
His voice croaks out "just cold"   
The boy sniffs, Rubbing his nose.   
"I'm Alex" He says suddenly "I never told you"   
Tommy looks away sharply, They have a connection now that's much deeper than survival, guilt trickles through him.  
"I read your dog tag anyway" He says, Shaking harder as he hears planes overhead.   
"You don't strike me as cold" Alex is staring at him, Lip curled, voice sharp without meaning to be. He's from the North, its so obvious. Bloody savages.   
"You strike me as scared"   
Tommy looks back, Eyes wide and jaw clench.   
"I'm not scared" He sounds breathless, he thinks of running down the closed, narrow streets, Hearing the men behind him fall, The bullet he could feel coming straight for him, his heart hammers wildly against his chest. "I'm not scared"   
Alex stands and brushes himself down. "Come on, I wanna talk"   
"We can talk here" Tommy squints up, Shielding his eyes from the sand being blown.   
Alex casts an eye over Gibson and the man looks between them.   
"I'll be back in a second" Tommy smiles briefly, weakly and gets up, Gibson nods and curls up again.   
"Whats so important" He huffs, Hugging his arms to his chest.   
"You saved my life" Alex drawls, throwing a stone away into the sea, Eyes flickering over Tommy's mouth and back to his eyes.  
"What of it? You'd have saved mine..." Tommy says, Voice tepid and faraway.   
"Thank you" He mutters. "Is there anything i can do?"   
Tommy swallows and drops his hands to his side. "N-no, It's fine"   
Alex cracks a gentle smile "You have mud on your forehead"   
Tommy rubs the back off his hand against the patch but Alex moves over faster. His hand moving up to his mouth he swipes his tongue over his thumb and cradles Tommys head. Tommy stares up, Green eyes confused but exhausted. Alex gently rubs the dirt of slowly, Before trailing his thumb down Tommys cheek. His breath hitches at the fact they only met hours ago. Time moves so slowly on the beach that he feels as if he's known Alex for years. He only told him his name 10 minutes ago.   
"There"   
His whole cheek heats and tingles. Tommy wants to cry, give up and fall against Alex's chest. Weep that they're going to die here. Weep that he's so, so unbearably happy Alex made it out that ship alive, Weep that this is for nothing, Weep that he doesn't want to die, That he'll do anything to survive and that he's sorry for that too. Instead he nods curtly, their eyes lingering on eachother. Alex's eyes mirror his own, desperate and wanting but they both look away and head back to the lines of soldiers.   
Soaked to the bone Tommy raises a cold hand to the cheek that still lingers with warmth and cant help but smile just a little.


	2. The Sea

2\. The sea

Peter thinks this is insane. Reckless and insane but he's not saying anything.  
He busies himself with making tea and knowledge that he's doing the right thing. It doesn't help to slow his heart beat though or stop how shaky he is.  
"You're shaking" George says, Sat across from him. "Why you shaking?"  
"I don't know, Nervous habit" Peter smiles politely. George looks at him like a dog who knows his owner is hurt but cant help.  
"Its alright you know" George says. "It's going to be alright"  
Peter swallows. "Do you want tea?" Standing and walking away. What does George know about war, about things being alright. Men are dying and Peter's to much of a coward to care. He wants to turn back with every passing second.  
"Don't be frightened Peter. Dunt do anyone good being frightened" George murmurs, His voice like a lullaby. He gives him one of those half smiles, That ever knowing but knowing nothing look in his eye that used to make Peter quiver with anger. Now all he can do is cherish it. Peter's hand slips as he pours.  
"Dammit" He snarls, Holding his scalded finger to his chest.  
"Can I see?" George moves over and takes Peters thin hand in his own, rough from work and large, calloused. It's a comfort in itself, Peter thinks. Peter curls his other hand over his heart and looks at George.  
"G-george..." He says, Realizing he doesn't know what he wants to say next.  
George presses the finger to his lips. Dry and soft. Peter gasps a little, Cheeks flushing, but he doesn't say anything. There is nothing to say. He lets George kiss his palm, his wrist before Peter pulls his hand back slowly, panting a little.  
The boat sways and the two part.  
"I should help up there" Peter smiles and shifts past George awkwardly. They share a smile, secret and young and Peter holds his hand to his chest like its sacred. When they get home he'll return the favour.


	3. The air

The air. 

"Alright old chap?"  
He's washing his face when a hand slaps him on the back. "Ready?"   
"As much as I can be" Collins laughs, teeth grinding.   
"Dont tell me you're afraid of going down?" Farrier laughs heartily, Smile genuine and fearless. He's admirable.   
"I'm afraid of watching 400,000 boys die and not being able to do a thing about it" He sighs.   
Farrier looks puzzled "Its not our job to get them of that beach, its our job to make sure they can. Unless you want to fit some lads into the cockpit beside you"   
They laugh. Too hard and long given the situation but everytime he gets in that cockpit he has less and less of a chance of coming back so why cant he enjoy himself. Pilots don't flap, they cant, they die if they do.   
"Your accent is adorable" Farrier sighs, leaning against the sink.   
"As you say all to often" Collins sighs. Sometimes he hates the english.   
"Oufteen" Farrier tries. Strike that, he always hates the english.   
"Im not french" He laughs, smiling. Luckily he hates the Germans more.   
Maybe he does like Farrier, maybe a little too much. Maybe they both like eachother a little too much.   
"I'm not even the worst, I'm posh scottish. Edinburgh through and through"   
"There are different kinds of scot?" Farrier cocks his head, Leaning closer.   
"You wouldn't say you and some kid from Manchester have the same accent would you?"   
"True but that's an easy accent to distinguish, Scots sound the same" Farrier grins.   
"You've never met a weegie" Collins grumbles, Realizing he's been pinned between the sink and the wall.  
"Weegie?"   
"Someone from Glasgow" He says.   
"Where's Glasgow?" Farrier's grin becomes toothy as Collins hits him with his gloves.   
"I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" He barks with laughter.   
"You're incorrigible" Collins sighs.   
"Not quite, I'm sure I could be taught" Farrier strokes a hand through Collins hair, Smile becoming fond.   
"Well I'll teach you when we get back tonight then" Collins mirrors it.   
"If" Farrier corrects, No fear in his voice, just a friendly reminider.   
"If" Collins nods. "Kiss me good luck then" he says as Farrier brushes his uniform down  
As they kiss Collins treats it as their last. He always does.   
They pull away breathless and Collins puts his hand on Farriers shoulder.   
"Pleasure flying with you" He pants, They've said the words so many times now.   
"And you" Farrier replies.   
He doesn't have to say I love you, They know that already.


End file.
